Bootleg
by CSI Clue
Summary: Pepper discovers there are duties as well as perks to being the boss.
1. Chapter 1

Working for Stark Industries had several perks. There were the standard ones of offices and company cars—all utilizing the latest green technology—as well as health benefits, vacation packages, golden parachutes and countless other goodies that enhanced or off-set the singular honor of working for Tony Stark.

Most of his employees were loyal; the upper echelon fiercely so. Every one of them knew they were among the most envied in the world, and that helped to forge the espirit de corps that kept them together through the disasters and triumphs of Tony's leadership.

To a person each employee was expected and encouraged to participate in company retreats and picnics, to promote Stark products, and to practice charity throughout their communities. One of the most popular ways the main office did this latter directive was through the annual sale of the _We Are Stark Industries_ Calendar. The calendar was a lovely full-color creation of on recycled paper that starred employees of Stark Industries in their daily routines, working hard and showing off the better, softer side of the corporation. It was sold for a limited time, and one hundred percent of the profits were given to the favorite charities of the featured employees.

In an impish and very Tony twist, the _We Are Stark Industries _bootleg Calendar was the other side of the coin. This particular product was completely unavailable to anyone outside Stark Industries, and in-house, was limited to a run of five hundred copies. Sale was by lottery and the average cost was exponentially higher than the legitimate calendar, but for good reason. Instead of going to charity, the profits from the Bootleg went to the Stark Industries Scholarship fund, available only to the children of SI employees, and in the last ten years, the fund had sent over two thousand students to colleges all over the world.

The Bootleg featured the same employers, but in much more . . . risqué poses. To be asked to pose for the calendar was a double-edged sword, but most employees were honored to be considered, and most were more than willing to do both calendars since the make-up artists, and photographers were the best available. Not all did both, but the majority did, and since there were several very attractive people working for Stark Industries, this made calendar time a lot of fun, and made the models stars for a while.

Through the years there had been silver foxes and differently-abled models; babes and boy-toys, serene cougars and amused potential sugar daddies all displayed in tasteful pictorials. Stark himself was always the back page, a smaller shot, surrounded by the thumbnail calendars of the year, his tie of choice covering a multitude of sins.

Obadiah had never posed, but in his time, he gave his genial unspoken support for the calendar, knowing it to be a good morale and PR move for the company. Pepper thought the same, although she considered it a little juvenile as well. She'd been asked to pose almost yearly, and declined each request with her usual grace, pointing out that there were other employees who deserved the limelight far more than she did.

In truth, Pepper had no problems with posing in and of itself; she'd been a model years earlier and knew far better than most people how to work with a camera. The problem lay in keeping her professional dignity afterwards. It was difficult enough to work for the greatest playboy the western world had ever seen without the added complications of fueling the continuous debate over whether or not she was sleeping with the boss.

Then Afghanistan happened, and with the loss of Tony, the calendar project seemed like a poor idea and was shelved for the duration.

Tony returned three months later, tempered by reality, augmented by palladium, and just as Stark Industries was attempting to adjust to the new 'no weapons' policy, Obadiah's betrayal and rampage dealt another blow to the corporation. Iron Man, Tony's armor-encased super-ego, took on the task of righting wrongs throughout the world, and in consequence, piffling little matters like the _We Are Stark Industries_ Calendar and its bootleg were left by the wayside.

But as Tony picked up the reins of his company and began to plan the Stark Expo, he also came across an early copy of the bootleg tucked away amid the files, and the sight of voluptuous, half-undressed Rochelle Moon seductively smiling as she leaned over a copy machine was enough to bring an answering grin to Tony's face.

-oo00oo-

Memo

From: Tony Stark

To: All interested personnel

Subject: Calendars

It's been too damned long since we saw a little skin around here. As of tomorrow, the _We Are Stark Industries_ Calendar project is back on, as well as the bootleg. Start thinking about who you'd like to see on display, and get your suggestions in to Rochelle Moon over at HR.

NB: Rochelle, you're in charge of this BTW.

Tony

-oo00oo-

Pepper was fairly sure her brain was going to overheat. Being Tony's assistant had been challenging, but now being given the CEO position was nothing less than massively overwhelming. She did as she always did when faced with the impossible: buckled down and got to work.

Then the menace of Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer hit, and Pepper found herself watching the utter destruction of the Stark Expo. The added agony of finding out Tony had been slowly dying of Palladium poisoning hadn't helped matters much either, so much so that when everything turned out all right in the end, she'd resigned as CEO. Slightly hysterically, but given the provocations, understandable.

Tony kissed her and consented to resume his duties, but the transition was going to take time, and Pepper reluctantly agreed to give it three months to happen.

One of the unexpected surprises was discovering that Natalie Rushman was a tremendous help. Pepper had been prepared to find the woman unable to keep up with her former job, so it was serendipitous when Natalie stepped in and handled it well. Pepper appreciated the support, especially when it came to keeping up with the never-ending paperwork.

Keeping up with Tony was another matter, and at the moment, the phone call was not going well.

"No, Tony, we will NOT donate any more art to the Boy Scouts. Yes, I'm still incensed about that. Honestly, with their track record of homophobia and discriminatory practices, it's going to take a while until I forgive you," Pepper groused into the phone. She busily signed the papers thrust in her direction and sighed. "No, Tony, I don't think it's wise to consider the Girl Scouts as an alternative . . . I love their cookies as much as anyone, but they're not exactly the most qualified trust to hold millions of dollars of contemporary art . . ." She made a face and glanced at the feed on her computer screen, annoyed to see another drop in the stock values.

"I'm just doing my part to support the youth of America," Tony's voice burbled into her ear. "Oh, and I sent a quick email from Rochelle about the Calendars for this year. Still not gonna pose for the benefit of us all, Pep?"

Pepper's expression soured. "My position on that is firm, Mr. Stark."

"Solid," Tony sighed. "Unshakeable. Still immovable, huh?"

"Utterly," Pepper assured him and hung up, only to meet Natalie's chagrined expression. The brunette looked on the verge of fidgeting as she hovered next to Pepper's desk.

"Ms. Potts, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she began, shifting through the stack of files in her arms and handing over a particular folder. She pointed to a highlighted clause on the papers inside it. "But apparently as CEO, you are in fact, contractually obligated to pose for the calendars."

"What?"

"It's legally binding, I'm afraid. We can have lawyers resubmit a new contract to the board, but by the time all of alterations would be agreed on and passed, this year's calendars deadline would be long overdue, and subject to lawsuits," Natalie murmured.

"Obadiah Stane never posed!" Pepper protested, feeling herself blush. "How did HE get out of the deal?"

"By definition, Mr. Stane was never officially CEO, ma'am, just CFO. He also headed the committee that wrote up the contract, and if you'll note the wording, it obligates whoever is CEO to the agreement. As I said, it can be re-written, but not in time to void this year's requirement."

Pepper drew in a deep breath and met Natalie's wry gaze. "Does Tony know this?"

Natalie considered it for a second, and shook her head. "I suspect he did the previous calendars out of egotism. He's probably forgotten it's a mandatory duty, although I can't say for certain. Mr. Stark has been . . . pre-occupied lately."

"Thank God," Pepper blurted, then remembering herself, took the file. "Fine. I'll meet the minimum of the contract under absolute discretion, Natalie, which means—"

"—not a word to Mr. Stark," she nodded, flashing Pepper a sympathetic smile. She scooped up the remaining paperwork and strode away, leaving Pepper to rub her eyes and mentally curse Obie once more.

"Great. Wonderful," Pepper groused to the empty office. "My public relations issues were already difficult enough, and now THIS particular duty, which is like, oh, pouring gasoline on a wildfire."

Pepper thought back to the previous years, when she'd helped out with the _We Are Stark Industries_ shoots. She'd had fun finding locations and arranging schedules for makeup artists and lighting crews. She'd enjoyed watching good people having fun, and marveled at how both calendars truly did strengthen the bond among the employees. All of that had been enjoyable—from a distance.

But now . . . shaking off the negative direction of her thoughts, Pepper picked up her phone and dialed an old number by memory.

"Dan?" After a few quick exchanges with the voice on the other end, Pepper cut to the point. "Stark is back in business for the calendars this year, both of them. And I have a HUGE favor to ask . . ."

-oo00oo-

Twins Dan and Anne Hawthorn had made their reputations as premier photographers by simply being the best. Their work in the world of portrait photography was legendary, ranging from high-art coffee table book collections of celebrities to cutting edge photos of rock superstars and Oscar-winning actors. They were lean, charming, and dedicated to the art of making art in a way that won over the most stubborn subjects.

They'd shot the calendars every year, working with a speed and impish intensity that amped the game up considerably. Dan was the principal, and Anne did the quick candids, the two of them able to work in tandem, making what could have been a tedious job into something fun for everyone involved, from the shy to the bold.

Anne was the chattier of the two and had a gift for helping people open up. She and her brother looked very much alike though, with the same with their long dark ponytails and hornrim glasses. Dan had a goatee; Anne wore enormous hoop earrings, but other than that they even dressed the same in khaki cargo pants and black tee shirts.

And they both had wanted to photograph Pepper for years.

Pepper met them for a quick lunch at the Neon Palms, slipping into the booth opposite them and pulling off her sunglasses in the dim coolness of the tropical themed restaurant.

"Finally, Miss Potts! This is a dream come true!" Anne burbled. "Those legs, that delicate coloring—"

"This isn't going to happen if Tony gets even one WORD about it," Pepper warned them both. "Not a syllable, you hear me?"

"Lips sealed," Dan agreed. "So are we shooting him too? I mean, if you want to keep *your* session under wraps, maybe setting up a diversionary one with Tony would help."

Pepper nodded. "Brilliant. That should help keep him occupied and I'm sure you can use them. Do you have that preliminary list of models?"

Anne pulled out an iPad and flicked through it. "Yep. A few repeats from previous years, and a lot of new faces. I'm not familiar with these three . . ." she turned the pad and held it out to Pepper, who glanced at it and smirked.

"Cedric's my former and soon-to-be reinstated personal assistant. He's a doll, you'll love him. And . . . Happy? Happy _agreed_ to be in the calendar?" Pepper blinked, slightly stunned.

Across from her, Dan gave a satisfied smile. "Anne's wanted him for a while as well; you know how she is about boxers."

"Shut up!" his sister snapped, grinning.

"You and your athletes. Anyway, he's agreed to do it this year, God knows why and I'm not asking too many questions. How about that last one?"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Natalie Rushman. Why am I not surprised?"

"We could take her off and go with an alternative," Anne offered, looking slightly worried behind her horn rims, but Pepper shook her head.

"She's modeled professionally before and she's gorgeous**—**she'll be an asset to the project." Hard to admit, but Pepper knew it was the truth, no matter how annoying it was.

"A ringer, huh?" Dan murmured thoughtfully.

A thought struck Pepper and she laughed; both photographers looked at her and she drew a breath, touching her finger along the pad. "I just figured it out. Happy agreed to pose only because Miss Rushman—Natalie—is posing. I bet she told him she wouldn't do it unless HE did it."

"Oooohhhh, so it's _that_ sort of relationship," Anne murmured, intrigued.

Dan gave a knowing nod. "Men in love do weird things."

Pepper thought back to a mangled omelet and a paper basket of strawberries and said nothing.

She and Tony had kissed, several times now. They were taking things slow, a process they'd both agreed on out of caution. It was the right way to start, and yet she felt . . . unsettled, slightly out of sorts.

Or, if Pepper was being completely honest with herself, horny.

This was not a totally uncommon situation for her; Pepper knew she was only human, and that Tony had been her secret desire for quite some time. Good old common sense had kept her from accepting any of his outrageous propositions over the years—that, and the emotional intimacy that had grown between them around and despite their sexual attraction.

The next logical step was obvious, and yet Pepper wasn't quite sure how to make it clear to Tony that it was time. He was being extraordinarily considerate these days, and there just didn't seem to be any subtle or romantic way to announce to him that she for one, was ready to shift gears upward.

"Anyway," Pepper broke up her own tangled thoughts and spoke with authority, "The releases are coming in, and I have a list of locations for you that have been cleared as well. Rochelle Moon is pulling it all together as you know, so when do you think you can start?"

"Two days," Anne responded. "We have a quick brochure for a big cat rescue to do, but by then we'll be ready to go. I'm guessing we're doing you separately from the group?"

"You guess right," Pepper assured her. "I'll go last, that way Tony will think the project's done and we can do it with no interference. Hopefully."

"All right then," Dan agreed, and flashed a smile at the young waiter who came up to the booth to take their orders.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm . . . I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with this," Cedric murmured uncertainly as he clung to the edges of his bathrobe and looked towards the pool.

Pepper smiled to herself as she watched Anne swing into action, her every gesture and tone soothing.

"I understand, it's not easy to let us into this private utopia of yours, Cedric," Anne murmured, drawing him forward to the edge. "I can see why you love it here though—the privacy, the beautiful clarity of the water, a peaceful haven after a long day of work . . ."

"It _is_ something to look forward to," Cedric agreed gently, looking around the company gym facilities. The pool was especially nice, with imported palm trees and landscaping around it. Pepper kept back, just beyond the lighting umbrellas and out of sight as Anne continued her conversation with Cedric.

Pepper knew her assistant had been on the alternate team for the Olympics a few years back, and that Cedric had kept up his early morning swim regime ever since. When he finally undid his bathrobe it showed; his lean form was pale but beautifully muscled. Anne urged him to do a few laps, waving him into the water to relax while Dan adjusted the tripod and fussed with the lights.

It didn't take long, and within half an hour, Cedric was casually lying on his back on the diving board, goggles dangling from one hand, red hair spiky and adorable. Muted sunshine from the skylight made the water droplets on his washboard stomach glitter. Pepper caught her breath admiring the sight Cedric made; the blue Speedo he wore clung like a second skin, molding to a fairly prominent package.

She _was_ horny, and this wasn't helping matters at ALL. Cedric was an amazing assistant and a vital part of her organization; it simply wasn't right to lust after his athletic charms.

After he'd dried off and left, Dan came over, patting his Leica happily. "That boy just gave us the hottest July your bootleg has ever had! I know Tony's kept himself in good shape, but I think young Mr. Toffle's going to give him some competition this year, Pepper."

"That's my second in command you're talking about, and no, I won't let you lure him into to a modeling career, Dan Hawthorn. He's off the table," Pepper teased back.

Dan shrugged good-naturedly. "I know SI treats their people well, but it's a shame to let pulchritude like that hide under business suits."

"He's a darling, too," Anne added, coming up smiling. "And this was the perfect setting. Official calendar shot of him at his desk, and bootleg shot of him at the pool makes for a well-rounded view."

"So who's next?" Dan wanted to know. "We've gotten nearly all the official calendar shots done, and ahead of time, too. Oh, and Tony's only snooped once."

Pepper looked up sharply. "For?"

"Wanted to see the bootleg list of course," Anne snorted. "As if we'd have it just lying around somewhere. I'm glad you and Rochelle had us put it all in notebooks."

"We were working with that little blonde actuary at the time, and had to shoo him away," Dan snorted. "Poor kid was totally intimidated by him."

"I'm sure," Pepper sighed, trying not to let herself feel annoyed.

Anne fiddled with the light meter on her lanyard a moment. "It's sort of odd though—Tony wasn't interested in watching the girl, not at all. I guess he's changed a bit since Afghanistan, huh?"

Pepper turned to hide her smile.

-oo00oo-

The next time Pepper saw the twins was when she rounded the corner to mansion's gym and found herself staring at Happy Hogan's bare back. He was holding a pair of thirty pound dumbbells, slowly curling them, and the heavy ridges of muscle along his shoulder blades and arms stood out along his damp skin. Those and the darling little wet curls along the nape of his bull-like neck sent a quick shiver of desire through Pepper.

She'd known Happy was strong, and in his own way handsome, but Pepper had never actually considered him on a purely physical level before. Now she was. Oh yes, now she most definitely was, but before she could do more than blink, a little throat-clearing made her look to her right, where Natalie Rushman stood, arms crossed.

"It's my lunch hour," the woman murmured, never taking her eyes off Happy.

Pepper nodded. "So you came to the gym."

Natalie turned to look at Pepper, her expression almost bland, but there was a glint of possessiveness in her eyes. "I'm here to offer Happy my . . . moral support."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Pepper murmured sweetly, and spoke again take the sting out of her reply. "Whatever you're doing for him, it's working."

Natalie looked as if she was going to deny it, but instead spoke up quietly, her expression halfway between uncomfortable and proud. "Vitamins. A new workout routine. Some . . . coaching."

"Good," Pepper announced, and moved over to the card table where Anne was reloading a camera, her long fingers moving quickly. She glanced up at Pepper and smirked.

"No bite marks on you? That one's a wee bit . . . possessive."

"Natalie is a very _dedicated_ employee," Pepper murmured with a sigh. She suspected that Natalie Rushman was much more, but any attempt to pry had been firmly blocked, and since she seemed willing to stay on at SI through the re-transition, Pepper was willing to let it go.

"You're being tactful," Anne giggled, and rose up, camera in hand. "Pardon me while I go feast my eyes on your hunky chauffeur."

Pepper envied her for a moment, then reluctantly turned her attention back to the card table and the legal pad there. Flipping to the very back, she noted that nearly everyone was done on both calendars. Tony's shoot was coming up; both Dan and Anne agreed that he'd make a terrific front cover for the calendars, given his re-instated status as CEO.

A little growling sound made her look up, and Pepper fought a quick smirk as she noted Natalie staring with laser intensity. Anne was squatting in front of Happy, shooting a few quick shots upward, and this apparently wasn't sitting well.

"I'm sure you remember that _lots_ of pictures never make it beyond the processing stage," Pepper murmured without looking at Natalie. "And that those particular candids _can_ be offered to the model, or his . . . coach."

She risked a sidelong glance and noted for the first time ever, an actual flush of pink across Natalie's face.

"I have work to do," Natalie abruptly announced, and stalked off.

Dan came over, pushing up his glasses. "She'll be back. Probably after she's kicked the shit out of some training dummies."

Pepper made a mental note to increase the budget for the gym.

-oo00oo-

She was nervous. It had been a long time since her days at Ford's and although Pepper knew she was still in good shape, she wasn't in *model* shape. It shouldn't have mattered to her, but a tiny ember of vanity still smoldered, and Pepper fought to tamp it down. This calendar was for fun; a romp and not a competition. Nevertheless, Pepper made it a point to bring her own makeup and mirror.

The Maria Stark Arboretum had been her choice; an acre of carefully chosen and beautifully maintained grounds featuring plants and trees from around the world, all enclosed in a geodesic dome. The one at the Expo had been based on the same design but half the size; here, the grounds were more expansive, with several paths weaving through it. It had small waterfalls, a moon bridge, and a tiny stone amphitheater built into a natural hollow.

Dan and Anne adored the place for its ambient lighting and sense of privacy; they lost no time in setting up and taking photos both for reference and pleasure. Pepper was glad to see them pleased since that made for a better mood for all of them, and helped to relax her. She looked down at her prop, and tentatively patted him on the head.

Francis purred in response, shifting his bulk to press against her knee, his fur warm and slightly rough to the touch. His handler, a quiet older man, was snoozing at one of the card table chairs. Pepper rose up and looked to where the two photographers were doing last minute adjustments with the potted ferns. Dan beckoned her over, and taking the leash, Pepper and Francis came over.

"This is gonna be good," Dan beamed, pointing to the green velvet dais. "Up there, Miss Potts; get comfortable."

She took a mental breath, slipped out of her bathrobe and lightly stretched out, rolling to face Dan. He was striving to look professional, but there was a happy gleam in his eyes as he swallowed. Francis hopped up without being prompted and stretched out alongside Pepper, his lean spotted torso in lovely contrast her hers. He yawned, and began to lick one paw.

Pepper propped her head up on one hand, letting her hair spill down over her shoulder. She rested the other arm along her side, letting the cheetah's streamlined torso coyly block the critical bits of her nudity. Dan quickly snapped off shot after shot, murmuring soft, reassuring words. Anne shifted from side to side, adjusting the lights, and holding out a portable fan. The breeze felt nice, and even Francis seemed to appreciate it.

"This is too damned good to be in the back of the calendar!" Dan announced, adjusting the lens. "Both you *and* Mr. Toffle are wasted at Stark Industries, I tell you. Was-ted!"

"It's very sweet of you, but both the cheetah and I are too old for this," Pepper murmured, pleased nonetheless.

Dan's response was a disbelieving snort and his sister laughed. At the sound, Francis flicked one rounded ear and yawned hugely, fangs glittering.

"Nice try, Pepper, but we've been looking through lenses for a long time, and I think we know what we're talking about."

That made her smile, and in that moment, Dan took a picture, making a pleased sound of his own. "Capper. I'm betting this last one is the capper!"

Anne had her sit up, with Francis at her side, strategically setting a potted fern low in front of Pepper. "A few alternative shots, of course—"

"Of course," Pepper agreed, blushing a little. Nudity was a part of modeling, but had never been easy or comfortable for her. The saving grace here was that the only witnesses to her self-consciousness were either professionals or sleeping.

The cheetah didn't count.

The sly little peek-around with the fern ended, and Anne handed Pepper the bathrobe before picking up the leash and cooing to Francis. "Come on, handsome, time to head back to Purr Palace. David!" she raised her voice and the older man at the card table sat up quickly, snorting a bit and blinking.

"Annie, yes, what? Francis all right then?"

"He did beautifully. Time to head home, guys."

"Oh good," David yawned, "not a moment too soon."

Pepper gave the cheetah a last pat goodbye, watching as Francis strolled into his rolling crate and settled in on the foam bed there. "Thanks for letting us use him."

"This one's more ham than cat," David laughed, tugging on the handle of the crate, and rolling it towards the far end of the Arboretum. "Francis loves the lights. And thank YOU for the generous donation, Miss Potts; the sanctuary appreciates it very much!"

Pepper checked her Blackberry, grateful to see that Tony's flight was still airborne somewhere over Montana. So far, so good, she acknowledged to herself. With luck, she'd be able to pick him up at the airport and he wouldn't know about her shoot until after the calendar came out.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing . . . she wasn't sure yet.

-oo00oo-

The release of the official _We Are Stark Industries_ calendar brought the company a boost of good publicity, and highlighted the new direction of the company in a way that made for a great little sound bite of morning news. The calendar was available both in digital and print forms, available at most retail sites, and priced less than two packs of gum.

Rochelle Moon was already gearing up for next year's calendars, considering apps for it, and taking suggestions on holidays to add into the months. Pepper directed most calls and inquiries her way, quietly pleased that the authorized version was doing so well. This year's inclusion of Benita Mendoza, a little person, and Isadore Chun, a paraplegic, went a long way to promote a united image of Stark Industries.

Naturally, most of the company were impatiently waiting the release of the bootleg, which was scheduled for two weeks after the official calendar's release date. All Stark employees filed their non-disclosure forms electronically, and lottery numbers had been assigned in a random fashion.

The drawing for the first ten was broadcast in-house during the lunch hour; Tony insisted on watching as ceremoniously, Rochelle reminded the winners that they had thirty minutes to pay up the five hundred dollars or decline to buy. Pepper perched on the edge of the desk, trying to look cool and unflappable, but it was difficult with Tony's hand resting along her waist.

Rochelle read the first number, and on the screen, a name flashed.

"Stadlnik in Fuels; I bet he's going to drop his cell phone at least TWICE before he manages to get through," Tony observed as Rochelle read off the name.

"He probably will," Pepper agreed, remembering the lean and geeky scientist. "And you know he'll get mobbed once he gets back to the lab with his prize."

"As he should," Tony smirked. "Rumor has it there's a hot CEO in it this year."

Pepper shot a sidelong look at Tony, but he was still staring at the screen as he tapped a pencil on her spinning carousel desk toy. "Oh really?"

He shifted his gaze for a moment, dimples deep. "Admit it, Potts. You want a peek."

She caught her breath uncertainly.

Did he, or didn't he?

"Riiight," Pepper muttered.

Tony jabbed the pencil with a flourish, jamming it into the toy in one swift movement. "When I win one, we can check it out together. Someplace private, with good lighting."

"When? When? Mr. Stark, are you saying you've _rigged_ this lottery?" Pepper demanded, only half-irked at the idea. She'd suspected Tony would end up with a copy by hook or crook; when it came to skin, the man couldn't help himself.

"Not rigged, per se," Tony put up a token protest. "But as head of this company, I myself am personally responsible for quality control, clearly. I couldn't live with myself if I let an inferior product get out there to my loyal employees now, could I?"

"What you mean is you couldn't live with yourself if people like Stadlnik got to see the calendar and you didn't," Pepper corrected. Rochelle read off another name, and from one of the floors far below, cheers erupted, muted only by distance.

"That too," Tony acknowledged without a hint of shame. "Perks of the job, Potts, perks of the job."

She sniffed, but couldn't quite hide her smile. On the screen the drawings went on, and when the tenth one was announced—Ginnie DiMarco in Corporate Law –Tony gave a decisive nod.

"And now the emails for the other winners go out, world-wide, and the other four hundred and ninety employees get an eyeful. Gotta love this business."

"I notice _your_ cell phone isn't—" before Pepper could finish the statement, her Blackberry went off. Tony batted his eyes at her, and Pepper's jaw dropped. She glanced at the screen and then up at Tony, who was already on his feet.

"Shall we go collect your prize, Miss Potts?" he purred at her, waggling his eyebrows.

The calendar was sealed in vacuum plastic, but through the transparent Mylar, the cover shot of Tony stood out. He sat behind his desk, tie undone and dangling on either side of the Arc. In one hand, Tony had a rolled blueprint and held it in his lap at a jaunty angle.

"Subtle," Pepper snickered as she took the calendar from Rochelle, who nodded, then blushed when Tony beamed at her.

"I was going for humorously tasteful."

"You missed," Pepper retorted, and tucked the calendar under her arm. With quick grace, she ducked out from Rochelle's office and made a beeline for the elevators, Tony on her high heels.

"Hold on," he insisted, slipping around her and jabbing the buttons before she could. "There seems to be a misprint here."

"Misprint?" Pepper stalled. The elevator shot up, making her rock back against the glass wall. Tony kept on his feet, clearly used to the acceleration.

"I'm supposed to be the _back_ page; the summary of all that's good and sexy about Stark Industries," Tony muttered. "Surrounded by little calendars of the year, so if anyone wanted to say, bypass all the other photos and have the glorious thrill of looking at me for twelve months, they could. It's sort of my shtick, you know?"

"Is that so?" Pepper replied, striving for nonchalance. "It's pretty clear to me that you like your shtick."

"And I like you liking my shtick," Tony assured her, "most definitely. We can work with that, once I find out what's going on with the layout of the calendar."


	3. Chapter 3

"Tony—" Pepper kept the calendar tucked under her arm as she tried to figure out exactly what to say. She hadn't planned on perusing it with him, or even being _around_ him once he found out she was in it, but at the moment there seemed to be little choice.

At best she could do some damage control by taking charge of the setting, so she spun away gracefully from his determined grasp and settled on the leather sofa in the alcove of the office. The sofa was the only leftover of Stane's time, and Pepper had been too practical to get rid of such a nice high-end piece of furniture. She sank into the end cushion while Tony flung himself onto the one next to her, pressing as closely as Francis had.

Pepper thought Tony and Francis probably had a lot in common, but before she could pursue that thought, Tony was making grabby hands for the calendar. She smacked his fingers and he made a big show of sulking and sucking on them.

"Stop acting as if you're seven, Tony," she chided, "and don't give me the puppy eyes."

"I'm the boss around here again almost," Tony complained. "You're not allowed to be mean to me."

"I thought my entire _job_ was to be mean to you," Pepper replied, carefully running a nail along the seam of the Mylar.

"Not in a hitting context," he insisted. "I know you're excited to see me on the calendar, but—"

"—Wow," Pepper broke in, startled at the first picture when she lifted the page of the calendar. The month was January, and smirking in a come-hither fashion, tiny Benita Mendoza leaned over her modified desk, long black curls decorated with sparkles and streamers as she held up a champagne bottle and glass. There was definite cleavage bulging over her black bustier, and Tony whistled.

"Ditto. I'm impressed."

"Benita's fun," Pepper grinned. "Did you know she rollerblades?"

"I could see that," Tony nodded. "She's got the killer instinct and a low center of gravity."

"Tony!"

"I'm talking aerodynamically." He gave Pepper his most innocent look. "Shall we continue?"

Pepper couldn't help herself, and smiled. She flipped the page, and February featured Natalie Rushman from the back in a snowy judo jacket, the black Obi loose around her waist. Her pants were draped over one shoulder as she looked back at the camera, and the perfect little globes of her naked butt peeked out from under the jacket.

Tony cleared his throat loudly and reached for the calendar. "She's quite an ass . . . set."

"Part of that's correct," Pepper muttered with a hint of exasperation. "I hope you've noticed that the belt there is _black,_ Tony."

"Haven't looked that high yet."

"Moving on—"Pepper growled, flipping the page. Part of her was annoyed with Tony, but when he didn't make any complaint, she glanced over at him only to find him smirking at her.

"You're jealous," he pointed out happily.

Pepper opened her mouth to protest; deny any such thing, but Tony was too close, emotionally and physically. His dark eyes held her gaze, and he leaned forward, letting his mouth barely brush her lips as he whispered. "Only interested in _one_ redhead, Potts."

A little whimper escaped before she could stop it, and the kisses that followed nearly made her set the calendar aside, but Pepper managed to pull back a little breathlessly and smile. "Good."

They both glanced down at the calendar, and this time Pepper was the one to smirk as the glorious charms of Edie Zinkowski rolling around on the conference room table came up for March. Tony pursed his lips. "She looks waaaay too happy for an actuary."

"Anne says you intimidated her; this must have been taken after you left," Pepper observed.

Tony snorted. "I don't intimidate, I awe. Next page-"

Above the April Calendar, Harold 'Happy' Hogan stood bare-chested, in the middle of a barbell curl, his muscles standing out in clear definition.

Pepper 'ooooohed.'

Tony grunted. "Give me a break; you've seen him in the gym a thousand times and besides that's barely thirty pounds! I can do _twice_ that!"

"Speaking of jealous . . ." Pepper murmured, but she flipped the page, albeit reluctantly, making a note to go back to it when Tony wasn't around.

"Twice that," Tony reminded her in a grumble. "While hung over."

The remaining pages each carried particular charms: Cedric's sunlit six-pack; Isadora Chun's wet and luscious steam-bath; Amir Hassan's post-cricket strip down among others. Pepper was aware of her own growing arousal fueled not only by the elegant photos of tasteful erotica, but also by the warmth and weight of Tony's body next to hers on the sofa. He radiated heat against her hip and side, and the feel of his hot breath along her shoulder made her slightly dizzy.

"Damn we've got a lot of hot people working here," Tony admitted. "I approve."

"Actually, what we've_ got_ are a lot of loyal and hard-working people who just happen to be photogenic and willing to put themselves on the line to make sure kids can go to college," Pepper clarified. They were nearly at the back, and she hesitated, not quite willing to flip the last page yet.

Tony nodded. "I know. The calendar is a PR move, but the bootleg . . . this is where SI people come through. Not just for the skin, but for the kids." He gave a little sigh and added, "so let's see what Anne and Dan did for my last shot." He reached over, pressing close to Pepper, and lifted the last page.

The twelve little calendars made a frame around the picture in the middle, but neither Pepper nor Tony noticed them as they stared together at the page.

Pepper couldn't breathe for a moment, amazed at how lush the photo was. She'd known it was a good session, and that Dan was one of the best portrait photographers in the world, but this shot was more than she'd even hoped for.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit." Tony growled in wonder, his words slow and dazed.

Pepper felt her pulse race. She squirmed, heat blooming across her face now. "Ummmm . . ."

The dappled greens of the Arboretum made a lush and exotic background, but the clear, glorious focus was in the sensual pose of Pepper and the cheetah, stretched out together in languid repose.

"Skin," Tony finally managed. "You're. showing. Skin."

"Yes, well . . ." Pepper began, and rushed on, "See, the calendar contract requires that the CEO pose and Natalie reminded me that if I didn't we'd be in breach of contract and liable for lawsuits and since we're already dealing with a lot of lawsuits over the Expo and your destroyed mansion I figured it would just be easier to do the calendar than add more fuel to those fires and anyway, for all intents and purposes, you're CEO now, or will be in another nine weeks or so, so you'll be back on the last page *next* year . . ." She trailed off and added, "That's Francis. He's a cheetah."

"You're naked." Tony's tone still sounded stunned; as if he couldn't grasp the truth on the page in front of him. "No panties."

"Tony, it's not as if you can SEE anything!" Pepper blustered. "Honestly, it's a very tasteful shot, and yes, I know it's not the way I usually am, but I HAVE modeled before."

"Not like this. At least, not for Stark Industries," Tony murmured. "God, I can hear the sound of hundreds of heads exploding out there."

"Tony!"

"Hundreds of hands, reaching for tissues . . ."

"Tony!" Mortified now, Pepper yanked the calendar away, but in the process of twisting, she found herself being pinned against the padded arm of the sofa. She looked into his bright, amused eyes.

"Christ, Pepper, you're extraordinary. Not only can you run my company and handle a thousand different duties with some sort of graceful cosmic Zen, but you're constantly able to put me in my damned place and do it in such fucking _style_ that I'm in utter awe of you. Not only that, but you're spectacularly hot, and while I've tried to take things slow like we agreed, it's been killing me. This calendar is NOT helping that issue at all, okay? Frankly I'm way past wanting you and sliding right into NEED—"

He didn't get a chance to finish; Pepper slid her arms around Tony and yanked him down, kissing him fiercely, more than ready herself now. It was a little awkward, but the heat of his mouth and the grind of his torso against hers shoved all other considerations aside.

Belatedly Pepper realized the door wasn't locked and that anyone could waltz in on them. She gave a groan, but apparently Tony's mind-reading ability manifested itself. He raised his head and called out in a raspy voice, "Stark one, private conference."

The door lock clicked and the window panels dimmed slightly. Pepper felt herself grow annoyed for a second, but when Tony added, "No projector, no table," she relaxed.

Relaxing was a mistake; Tony licked her neck, and the sensations made her wriggle like mad. "Tony!"

"Trying to se-DUCE you here," he snorted, kissing her lightly. "Maybe I'm wrong, but YOU started this . . ."

""So DO it," Pepper ordered in giggly exasperation. "Patience was never your strong suit anyway . . ." this trailed off in a yodel as Tony slid a hand up under her blouse, his fingers guided by some magical heat-seeking system.

"On it, oh my Pepper of the jungle," he snickered happily against the little hollow at the base of her throat. "Oh God . . ."

Pepper wasn't really sure of anything coherent beyond that as rational thought vanished for both of them. She moved on instinct from that point, breathing in the warm tang of Tony's skin, tasting the hint of salt along the rims of his ears, and trembling under the calluses on his fingertips. Tony refused to rush, exploring her body with an awed intensity that had Pepper alternating between restless joy and a growing sense of vulnerable need. When he finally smoothed a palm down through the damp curls between her thighs, Pepper gave a squeaky growl.

"NOW, Tony!"

From the look on his face he was on the edge himself, and the rush of lustful love in Tony's eyes made her pulse beat with a painful intensity.

"We sort of talked about it, but—" he fumbled, nudging her knees apart and blinking hard at the sight. It would have been flattering as hell if she wasn't so . . . needy at the moment.

Pepper curved her palms along his furry jaw line. "Pill. WANT you, Mr. Stark!"

"Christ YES, Miss Potts," he groaned and thrust as he slid his body against hers.

Pepper cried out softly, feeling her entire body tense. The feel of Tony—hot, thick, and definitely BIG—made every inch of her skin ache with pleasure. The little jolts of lust that countered each of his strokes had her rocking against him, hungry for more and Pepper breathlessly told him so in a string of barely coherent words.

"More, mooorrrrre, oooh yesss, Tony . . . T-T-Tony!"

She wrapped her hands around his shoulders clinging as her slender body shuddered under his, strong and quick. He arched more deeply into her, and Pepper dimly felt the hot pulses of his own orgasm surging deep within her body in throbbing waves.

For a long time, moving after that was impossible; instead, Pepper drowsily cradled Tony's head against her breasts and wondered if she still had a spare suit and panty hose in her office. Cedric could bring it in while she hid in the private bathroom, she thought, and her executive case was big enough to smuggle her ruined things home . . .

"Love you," Tony mumbled, breaking into her thoughts. "For the record, I've never done it in this office before. At least, never with someone else, which is probably TMI but the truth, all told."

Pepper loved the sight of him rumpled, relaxed and mischievous as he shifted on the sofa and pulled her to lie against his side. This was the Tony that was and always had been all hers, this personal Puck.

"I . . . I love you too, Tony." It felt good and silly and right to say, and she buried her face against his shoulder, smiling.

"Damned right," he rumbled. "So . . . now my entire company has seen you pose nude_. I_ think the best PR spin we can do to counterbalance that situation might be to get engaged."

"Not the_ entire_ company," Pepper automatically protested, although a nagging sense of fatality within her agreed with Tony. Then she processed the rest of his words and sat up, astonished. "What?"

"Affianced, betrothed, that sort of thing," Tony smirked at her. "My reputation is shaky at times, and landing a babe who poses nude with a cheetah can only bring me up you know."

"That's an enormous step, Tony! We're just starting to re-build Stark Industries, and . . . and . . . "she trailed off as he took her left hand, kissing her knuckles.

"We DO enormous things around here, Miss Potts; it's what makes this company great. I want you with me, so please, please, say yes. My heart's been damaged enough," he murmured, eyes soulfully locked on hers.

Pepper couldn't breathe for a long moment.

She surged up and kissed him, and he smiled against her mouth. When Pepper pulled back, her face was wet, but she couldn't be sure she was the only one who'd teared up.

"All right. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?" She impishly asked, settling down against his chest once more.

This was good, and right, and Pepper relaxed until he spoke.

"Actually no," Tony chuckled. "See, now I have this idea for next year. A really cool idea, and one that will really shake things up. See, I'm thinking about doing a _couples_ calendar . . . ."

END


End file.
